Floridaklok
by Pirate Hatter
Summary: Metalocalypse. Dethklok goes to Florida to visit Murderface's grandparents. Future pairings include Charles/Pickles, Skwisgaar/Toki, and possibly Nathan/Murderface.
1. Phone Call

Murderface was not prepared for this. This was torture. This was unimaginable evil. This was cruel and unusual punishment. (Unjust punishment, we might add).

"Fuck. I can't believe thisch." The bassist growled to himself and crumpled up the Post-It note that had contained his fate. It had been written by a Norwegian hand, very badly and nearly impossible to read.

'_Mordarface- you grandmofer cawld. We am goingg to vizet them in Flouriida. Bring suim-soot._'

Once he figured out what it meant, he immediately got angry and tore the Post-It from the refrigerator. His grandma called?! Since when did she know how to use a phone? And there was no way in hell he'd go swimming. No way.

"TOKI!!" Murderface screamed and clenched his fists. The young Scandinavian was at attention at once, even saluting him.

"Yes, sirs?"

"Did you write thisch?" Murderface growled, pointing to the note. Toki looked at it for a moment and then beamed at the American.

"Mhm! Nat'en say my hand-writing improves! He give-ds me an cookies!" Toki was not rewarded again. He was thumped on the head.

"You idiot!! NEVER anschwer the phone when the first three numbersch are 850!! That'sch Tallahasschee and that'sch where my grandparentsch live!! I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO THEM!"

"Pbbbt. Calms down. I talk-eds to dem." Toki smiled once again, thinking he did something right. He didn't, and he was thumped again.

"Moron!! Now we have to vischit them!"

"Well what's so wrongs about dat? I remembers you grandmother. She nice ladies. She gaves me hard candies. Dey tasteds like strawsberry," Toki remembered back to when he first met Murderface's grandparents, back when the band first formed. They sometimes had practice in Murderface's garage and his grandmother would always bring them candy. Murderface hated it because she seemed to always appear during his bass solos.

"Toki," Murderface was becoming exasperated, "I don't want to vischit them! I. Don't. Like. Them. Plusch, their retirement home schmellsch like green beans,"

"Moidaface, we never gets to go nowheres," Toki's eyes were getting bigger as he spoke, "Not unless we workingks. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease cans we go to Floridas? I wants to see dem alligators," Toki threw in a nice lip-quiver to his pleading.

"Well…" Murderface was on the fence now. They _could_ go to Wakulla Springs, after all… maybe he could feed Toki to the alligators. "I guessch scho."

"OH TANK YOU!!" The unsuspecting Norwegian hugged Murderface and then sprang off to tell the others. Vacation!

"Thisch…thisch isch not going to end well," Murderface sighed and went off to his room to start packing.


	2. Arrival

"Well here we are, boys," Charles stepped off the bus and into the muggy heat of Florida mid-June. He pulled his sunhat further down over his eyes. Charles hated heat. "Westminister Oaks."

"Gods dis place is so dooms and gloom," Skwisgaar muttered, tying his hair back. "Dis is worst place to evers go on vaca—" He stopped talking and stared, mid hair pull, at probably three GMILFs paraded in front of him.

"Dis is best place in de whole worlds…"

"Skwisgaar, your boner is showing," Nathan mumbled and pushed back a lock of his raven hair. The boner was extremely noticeable.

"Ja is real bigs boner!" Toki bounced around Skwisgaar, poking at his waist, "Yous gross!"

"Shuts up, Toki," Skwisgaar growled and pushed him away, "Don't pokes me… no really stops. _Toki_, stops poking—STOPS POKING ME!!"

"Tryings to make you tent disappear, dumb ass." Toki stuck out his tongue and poked at the front of the tent. Skwisgaar shivered and growled.

"Murderface, get out here," Charles called into the Dethbus. "Don't make me use… you know what,"

"I'M NOT LEAVING THISCH SCHPOT." Murderface howled.

"Well ok," Charles inhaled deeply. He held his breath a few moments before calling into the bus.

"HEY PAL, IT'S ME. FACE BONES!! I'M HERE TO TELL YOU TO GET OUT OF THE BUS. RIGHT. NOW."

Yes, Charles used his Face Bones voice. Everyone suffered.

"NO!! FUCKFACE!!" Murderface shrieked back, holding his ears to his head. Charles panted and gathered himself for another round.

"NOW MURDERFACE, I KNOW YA HATE IT HERE BUT YA GOTTA GET OUT OF THE BUS AND SEE YOUR GRANDMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…"

And yes, he dragged out the last syllable to annoy Murderface.

"Fine!! God," Murderface practically fell out of the bus, "Your throat must be killing you,"

"That's beside the point," Charles' voice was hoarse now, as it always was when he had to continually screech a word, "Let's go see your grandparents,"

"Brutal, dood," Pickles was last out, after applying several coats of SPF 67 sun block. He was determined not to burn during this trip.

"Shut up," Charles always got grouchy after having to do Face Bone's voice. The day he had to record the whole thing for Fan Day, he nearly killed a roadie for giving him room temperature water instead of ice water.

"Gods, what smells like coconut?" Skwisgaar looked over to Pickles, keeping Toki way from him by holding his head out at arm's length.

"That'd be me. Lots of sunscreen. I will NOT burn on this trip," Pickles prided his own genius and smirked to himself.

"Your nose is turning red," Nathan point out and poked his nose. Pickles eyes crossed to see the reddening skin.

"**FUCK!!**"

"You can put on some more sun block after we visit. I had to reserve both guest rooms and even then, two of us have to sleep on the floor," Charles eyes the Americans suspiciously. All at once, the four touched their noses and screamed "NOSE GOES!!"

"What??" Toki and Skwisgaar looked over in confusion. Nathan and Murderface started to laugh.

"You guysch gotta schleep on the floor!"

"Oh fucks wit dat, I not doingk dat! I calls Pickle bed," Skwisgaar pushed Pickles over into the bus.

"Like hell you do!!" Pickles shot himself at Skwisgaar's waist and tackled him into Toki.

"KNOCK IT OFF!!" Nathan bellowed and the scuffle that had broken out stopped immediately. "Wait until we get into the rooms, GOD,"

"Holds on," Toki poked his head up from the bottom of the pile, "Why we can'ts just sleep in de Dethbu… HEY!!" Toki's face fell when the roadies threw out six suitcases and drove the Dethbus out of the home and onto the highway.

"WHAT THE HELL?! AHFDENSEN WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Pickles wailed and jumped at the manager.

"I didn't tell them to do this…"

"What the hell?! My video gamesch were on that! How am I gonna beat Picklesch' score on Wheelchair Bound DS??"

Murderface was suddenly pegged in the head with a black Nintendo DS. He fell over.

"Well that answers that question… okay, let's go get these rooms." Pickles climbed out from in between the two Scandinavians, leaving the two to start a vicious slap fight on the ground.

"Scho wait, how'sch this going to work? They're juscht gonna be on the floor or in the schame room? What?"

"Let's get to the rooms and then decide how this will work," Charles sighed and dragged Skwisgaar and Toki along on the ground. They continued to fight.

--

"William!" Stella Murderface wheeled over to her grandson and grabbed his hands, "I'm so happy you came!"

"Das what she said," Skwisgaar muttered to Pickles.

"Yeah uh, well… ya know…" Murderface shrugged lamely and glanced to his grandfather in his high-tech wheelchair. "Hi…"

"Hello William," The robotic voice muttered. After a short pause, it said, "Kill me."

"Yeah, get right on that."

"So how long are you boys staying?" Stella smiled hopefully up to Murderface.

"Couple daysch, I think… actually, our tour busch wasch… hi-jacked or schomething scho," Murderface shrugged again.

"The roadies aren't responding to my calls," Charles sighed and pocketed his DethPhone. "We're stuck here for a while."

"Grandmaface, you gots any hard candies??" Toki bounced up to her and held out his hands.

"Rights here in my pant, Toki," Skwisgaar snickered to Pickles again.

"Why yes I do. Let me just find it…" Stella searched her handbag for an annoying length of time, during which, Toki continued to bounce.

"Actually," Nathan stepped in and pushed Toki back from the elderly woman, "Toki's got diabetic. But I'll take 'em,"

"Oh sorry, dear," Stella tipped over her purse and let a waterfall of hard candies fall into Nathan's waiting hands, "I don't seem to have very many today. But I'll get some sugar-free ones at the store,"

Toki gave Nathan a very ugly look as the front man shoveled the sweets into his mouth.

"You will die…" He hissed.

"Have you boys loaded your luggage into the guest rooms upstairs?"

"No, we juscht got here. Where isch it?" Murderface grabbed his suitcase and walked to the elevators.

"4th floor, William. I'll just see you all when you're all unpacked," Stella nodded to Thunderbolt and the two rolled off down the hallway.

"Alright, let's get a look at this piece of shit," Pickles groaned and struggled with his suitcase.

"Well this is…" Charles kicked the door open and frowned slightly, "Rather small,"

"You hears dat a lot, Charlie?" Skwisgaar hooted. The entire band burst into hysterics.

"Very clever, Skwisgaar. Thinking with your brain instead of your crotch for once," Charles bit back and threw his suitcase on the bed closest to the window.

"OOOOOOH!!" Nathan, Murderface, Pickles, and Toki all laughed at the diss. Skwisgaar seethed.

The room was a very strange shape. It would resemble a demented triangle on the floor plan, but to the casual observer, it looked like they just ran out of room for two guest rooms and cut the one in half. The beds were short singles, one close to the bathroom door and one near the window with room for a lounging chair in between. A TV was suspended 15 feet from the door, over the mini-fridge and half-dresser. A sorry looking coffee maker and a small stack of Styrofoam cups resided on the fridge.

"Ok, I'm sleeping in here. Who else?" Charles sat on his bed and kicked off his shoes. Not surprisingly, but strangely enough, the shoes landed together on the ground, right-side up and perfectly neatly.

"I'll take it. If Skwisgaar's sleepin in here it's gonna be the Death match of the century," Pickles smirked and put his suitcase at the foot of his bed.

"Where de fucks I am goingks to sleeps??" Skwisgaar frowned. Charles pointed to the four foot clearance between his and Pickles' beds.

"On the floor, of course."

"Greats." Skwisgaar snorted and heaved his own luggage at his space.

"Hows fittings. For de dogs of de group!" Toki laughed. No one else did. "What? No he's... he a dogs… because he a womanizer and sleeps arounds. And now he on de floors."

"…"

"OH SCREW YOU ALL OFF. I'm fucksing hilarious."

"Well, I guess that means me, Toki, and Murderface are all in the next room." Nathan sighed and went to Guest Room "B".

"I call the bed next to the bathroom!" Murderface shouted and followed after Nathan, as did Toki.

"Pfft. Dildos." Skwisgaar was opening his luggage to see what the roadies packed him. A few shirts, pants, belts, and some covers in case he needed them. He gaped in horror.

There were then three simultaneous screams of terror.

"OUR GUITARS!!" All three guitarists shouted.

"Excuse me?" Charles was shucking off his suit jacket and looking for more comfortable clothes.

"Mines guitars is nots here!! My Explorer!!" Skwisgaar tore the clothes from his suitcase in vain attempt to find his guitar.

"Ah that sucks." Pickles was looking through his suitcase as well. He found his drumsticks, but nothing that even resembled a drum. "Hm. Looks like I'm back to the old Middle School Drummer trick."

"What is the—"Charles soon found out. Pickles started using every surface within reach as a drum. This was going to be annoying.


	3. Going Swimming

"So you're all settled in?" Stella asked everyone. They were in her and Thunderbolt's apartment on the first floor. Toki was in the kitchen eating all the oatmeal cookies and Strawberry Newton's he could find.

"Yeah. But uh, we don't have our guitarsch. Kind of annoying," Murderface shrugged and flipped through channels on the out-dated TV set.

"William, don't slouch," Stella snapped. Murderface immediately straightened up in his seat, purely on instinct. "That's better. No girl wants a man who slouches,"

"No girl wants a Moiderface," Skwisgaar muttered and sipped the cup of tea he was given.

"Excuse me?" Stella rolled over to the Swede. He clenched visibly.

"I said not'ing,"

"That's right you didn't. Oh did you boys see the pool house on the way in? They're building a gazebo addition onto it."

"Oh that building with all the Mexicans drinking and sitting on wood?" Pickles looked up from the TV, "I saw that."

"Why don't you all go swimming?"

Dethklok regarded each other with silent hatred, except for Toki. He was still eating.

"I think that's a marvelous idea," Charles stood up, "I'll get everyone's swimsuits." And then he ran out like a man on fire.

Pickles sat in his seat, praying to God that the roadies packed his blue swim trunks and not the mortifying little Speedo Seth bought him as a joke. He didn't mean to keep it, really, but Seth snuck back into his room and stuffed it in his drawer when Pickles was asleep.

Charles returned shortly and tossed everyone their suits. Toki had a nice blue pair with red stripes on the sides. Skwisgaar's was black with white pinstripes. Murderface's were simple dark green ones with a camouflage pattern. Nathan's were black, predictably (the man wore black _tighty-whities_ after all). And Charles' were black on the sides and white on the inner-thighs section, with his initials on a pocket. Pickles had the Speedo. Of course.

"You're not serious," Nathan eyed the drummer's short shorts. "You're like… 40."

"_39!_" Pickles frowned at him, "And I didn't even buy these. Seth did. He fucking hates me,"

"Or wants to sees you junks," Toki cocked his head and sat on the couch with Skwisgaar. The entire room gave Toki a disgusted look.

"He's my brother!!" Pickles maintained a look that said 'that is so beyond disgusting, I want to vomit my guts out and die in them'.

"Whatevers. Grandmaface, where you bathroom? I wants to change,"

"Down the hall, near the door,"

"Tank yous," Toki popped off the bed and walked to the bathroom to change. He emerged a minute later, looking quite spiffy in his suit. "Oh, I likes dese. Dey makes me look like a athletes!"

"I call nexts change," Skwisgaar raised his hand, seeing Nathan walk off for the bathroom.

One by one they changed under it was just Pickles left with his tiny suit. Everyone stared at him expectantly.

"…OK FINE!! Geez, you guys are lookin at me like vultures er something." Pickles stormed off for the bathroom, hating his life, his band, and his brother. But really, he hated the maker of the suit most of all.

When Pickles came out of the closet bathroom, Dethklok had left for the pool already and left a note. Toki wrote it.

'_Pikkl- We goss to the poul haus. Cee you dere!_ '

"Oh that's real nice… that's exactly what I wanted to happen," Pickles glowered at the note and went for the door, but noticed that Murderface's grandfather was staring right at him. "Uh… hi."

Pickles' eyes got wider as the old, paralyzed man rolled toward him.

"Kill me." He pleaded with a robot's voice, "Please kill me."

"Uh… I don't think that Murderface would appreciate me killin ya so—"

"Please kill me. I have not been able to move for forty years. I am not alive anymore. Please kill me." The man rolled closer and closer towards Pickles.

Not having any other plan, Pickles ran like a bitch it the pool house, which was nearly half a mile away.

"Oh well."


	4. Diving Contest

"Checks dis one out yous guys!" Toki jumped on the diving board a few times before diving artfully into the water. Charles clapped for him while Nathan, Murderface, and Skwisgaar held up their score boards.

Nathan gave Toki an 8.

Murderface gave Toki a 6.

Skwisgaar drew a picture of a dildo.

"All things considered, it's better than your last score," Charles nodded.

"Ja last times I gets a pictures of Skwisgaar screwing some girls wit long browns hair."

"Naïve dildos." Skwisgaar sighed and rubbed off the picture on his board.

"My turn!" Murderface jumped out of the shallow end of the pool where the Judges sat and ran to the diving board, ignoring Charles' protests about running. He jumped a few times and dove into the pool with a powerful splash.

Nathan gave Murderface a 4.

Toki gave Murderface a 7.

Skwisgaar drew a picture of a dead lady.

"Oh deads lady! You musta beens real good!" Toki laughed and grabbed Skwisgaar's board. He looked up to the door of the Natrium to see Pickles walk in, in all his Speedo'd glory. "Hi's Pickle! You junk looks real goods in dat tiny suit!"

Everyone looked up.

"Thanks… Toki," Pickles frowned and walked over to Charles. "It's not legally questionable to kill my brother, is it?"

"Yes it—"

"Ah, ah, ah! That's a no." Pickles smiled and got into the shallow end with the others. They all stared at his waist, though it was underwater.

"Gahd, ya fags. Ya didn't look at me like this when we were in the hot tub back home!"

"Yeah but… we were all naked. Except Murderface," Nathan looked to the bassist. Murderface was making bubbles underwater by this point.

"So, it's different now," Nathan shrugged and shoved Murderface away from him.

"Look, the roadies packed my bag and decided that they hated me. Whatever. I'll buy another suit later. Can we jest get back to…whatever you guys are doing?"

"Wes doing a divings contest." Skwisgaar explain, scrubbing off the insulting picture of himself that Toki had drawn.

"Yeah Pickle you shoulds dives!" Toki grabbed for another scoreboard from Charles.

"I dunno guys…"

"C'mon! We've all done it. It'sch fun!" Murderface was shaking his head to get the water out of his hair. Pickles thought for a minute and shrugged.

"Yeah ok. Skwisgaar can I borrow yer hair tie? Thanks," He got out of the pool and walked to the other end. His dreads were pulled back into a messy ponytail type thing.

"Come on Pickle, yous cans does better den a dildos!" Toki cheered. Pickles nodded, jumped a few times, and dove into the pool with a large splash that echoed throughout the room. He popped up near the others and crossed his arms.

"How'd I do?"

All four judges held up pictures of a dick.

"What?"

"Pickle, you lost you shorts," Toki point over to the other edge of the pool where the Speedo was floating.

"Motherf—!!" Pickles blushed and sunk down under the water with both hands covering his crotch. The rest of the band, including Charles, was laughing their heads off.


	5. Marco Polo

"Marco!" Pickles called out as he walked around the pool, blindfolded by Charles' tie.

"Polo!" The others called out. Charles was being backed up into a corner of the pool by Pickles.

"Marco?" Pickles asked coyly, knowing the CFO was in front of him. His hands rest on the cement on either side of Charles head.

"Polo. Congratulations Pickles, you've got me," Charles knew when he was beat.

"Yeah well, ya gotta be awesome to play this game," Pickles laughed and removed the tie. He and Charles were practically nose-to-nose and for a second, they just stared at each other, breathing shallowly.

Murderface swam over to the two in the corner and splashed them fitfully. "C'mon you guysch. Charlie'sch it,"

Pickles nodded and tied the tie around Charles' head and led him to the middle of the shallow end. He turned him around a few times and rushed off to another end before Charles could grab at him.

"Ok… Marco," Charles sighed and walked around with his arms out.

"Polos," Skwisgaar and Toki said together. For some reason they decided to team up and after a half hour of playing, they had yet to be it.

"Polo!"

"Polo."

"Polo."

Charles dove for Nathan's voice but missed and splashed heavily in the water. Nathan laughed and ran from Charles, or the equivalent of running when in water up to your waist. When the manager resurfaced, his tie was soaking wet and his hair was messed up and out of place.

"Nathan, I know you dodged me," Charles sputtered.

"It's all in the game," Nathan grinned and nodded to everyone. They all started to slowly move to the edge of the pool as Charles started to call out again. They still answered, just to be fair to the man, but they climbed out as well, silent as church mice.

Charles actually started to get close to Toki and Skwisgaar as Toki was climbing out. Toki gasped and freaked out as if Charles were a shark. Skwisgaar pulled him out of the water quick enough and silent enough to trick Charles, which was difficult when the pool house did nothing to diffuse the sound.

In a flash, both Scandinavians and the three Americans were out of the water and standing against the wall.

"Marco?" Charles was getting confused. He was sure he had searched every bit of the pool that he could safely get to and was within bounds.

"**Polo!**" The band called in unison. Charles tore off the tie and scowled at them.

"Oh real mature. Fucking climb out of the pool…" He angrily shook his head and climbed out as well. He was ready to rip every one of those boys a new one.

Just as he stormed up to them, Nathan turned on the hose in his hands and sprayed Charles with ice-cold water. The manager shrieked and cowered under the icy blast.

"NATHAN STOP IT!!" He gurgled from behind the spray.

"Mmm… I dunno," Nathan smirked and aimed the hose at Charles' crotch. He screamed again and backed up into the pool. Every one laughed and high-fived each other.

"You," Charles gasped when he came up from under the water, "Are all **dead**,"

"Bigs manager butlers is mads at us," Skwisgaar grinned at Toki. The brunette giggled.

"He gonnas gets us in our sleeps,"

"Damn right I will," Charles snarled, "Game over. Everyone towel off, we're going back,"

"AWWWWWWWWWH MAN!!"

"Shut up!!"

"…"


	6. A Hot Shower

"It's only been 3 hours??" Pickles gaped at the tall grandfather clock in the hallway of Murderface's grandparent's apartment. "It feels like six!"

"We's caughts in a times warp," Skwisgaar sighed as he brushed and untangled Toki's hair.

"It makes de times… seems longer," Toki observed and sipped his juice box.

"Perhaps, Toki, for de olders ones, who needs more times on dis earth," Skwisgaar agreed.

"So dey has more times… wit friend and loveds one. Rests well, elders,"

"Das rights… mine little friend,"

The Americans exchanged confused glances and ignored the moment. As always.

"Well anyway," Murderface looked to his grandmother, "We eating anywhere?"

"How does the Olive Garden sound?" The idea was approved by all. "Well we'll leave at 5:30. Is that ok with everyone? Good."

"Does dats giveds me times to has shower?" Toki asked Charles. It was currently 3:43.

"Yes, I think a few of you could shower and be ready in time to leave. But make the shower's quick, this isn't Mordhaus. They don't have a ridiculous amount of money to pay for water,"

"I think… since we have like, three available showers… three people could go at once,"

"Very smart, Nathan. Ok, who wants to take a shower fir—"

"NOSE GOES!" Skwisgaar and Toki shouted and grabbed each other's noses. Pickles and Nathan stared at them as if they were insane.

"Is dats not how's it work?" Toki asked rather nasally.

"Uh… well, hey, if you an' Skwisgaar wanna take your showers so bad, you guys can take the first ones. I'll take one down here," Pickles jumped off the couch and grabbed his discarded clothes from near Charles. As he walked off to the bathroom, Toki jumped from Skwisgaar's lap and dashed out the door, screaming, "Race yous!!"

Skwisgaar ran out after him, wielding his hairbrush and screaming something about Toki not being fair.

"Heh. Ok. B.R.B," Pickles closed the door and began undressing for the shower. The water knob was hard to figure out at first, but he eventually learned that you had to pull it out, spin it around once, and then turn it to the temperature you wanted.

The Wisconsin-born drummer sighed as the warm water caressed his skin and began the complicated procedure he developed to wash his dreads. He thought he heard the door open and immediately got annoyed. It was probably Murderface, popping in to bug him in some way. But Pickles actually started to freak out when he realized he recognized the silhouetted shape that rolled toward him. He cowered into a corner.

"Kill me."

Toki actually didn't notice when he had a visitor of his own.

Toki had beaten Skwisgaar to the rooms by a country mile, and had already started his shower. He thought quietly as he let his Strawberry Milkshake shampoo soak in to his hair and scrubbed his skin with the washcloth covered in lightly scented shower gel. He scrubbed himself all over, just as he had always been told by his mother, though this time it was not to wash off the "sin and shame". Chlorine made his skin all red and blotchy.

He only really noticed he wasn't alone when the sliding glass down opened and shut quickly, and there was a rush of cool air and the overpowering scent of cigarettes and sex.

"Whats are you doing, Skwisgaar?" Toki looked back over his shoulder to the man towering a good 6 inches over him. Toki didn't expect Skwisgaar wanted anything other than to annoy him. He'd seen the man naked plenty of times, and he'd actually done this sort of thing before, too.

"Annoyings you. Duh. You knows me better den dat,"

"Yous done de shower tricks before. Is not'ing new," Toki stuck his head under the spray of the nozzle and washed away the suds of the shampoo and the soap from his washcloth. "Hey, you cans hand me mine conditioners?"

"Ja, sure." Skwisgaar grabbed the bottle of vanilla cream scented conditioner and squirted a blob into his hand. He gently pulled Toki's head back from the water and started working the conditioner into the soft, wet brown hair.

"I saids hands me de conditioners, not puts it on fors me," Toki grumbled like a child.

"I knows. Justs figures I does dis,"

Toki had no response. He let the older guitarist groom him for a while and actually relaxed against Skwisgaar. His hands always felt nice against his scalp.

Skwisgaar always liked to play with Toki's hair. Most times, he used the excuse that his hair looked like crap and he had to fix it, or the chlorine was making it all tangled, or he was in the shower with him so he might as well. Toki never understood why he was so fascinated by his hair, but was willing not to question it as long as Skwisgaar made him relax like he did now.

After a couple minutes, Skwisgaar grabbed the nozzle from the wall and washed away the soap from Toki's head and ran it over his body once more.

"Dere you goes. All cleans," Skwisgaar smiled and ushered Toki out from the shower, still wet and dripping.

"Tanks you, Skwisgaar. Felts nice," Toki smiled and grabbed a towel to dry his hair with.

"No problems," The blond assured him and started to wash his own hair.

"You don'ts want helps wit you hair, Skwisgaar?" Just like Toki, to be so kind and generous. How unbrutal.

"No, yous already dryings. Is fine, go gets dressed for de Olives Garden. Wears something nice, okay?"

"Okay,"


	7. Getting Ready

All the musicians showered off and were dressed in casual-formal clothes that made them look much more sophisticated and less brutal than they usually did. Even Charles dressed down from his usual business suit to much more casual clothes.

They looked SPIFFY.

"Well don't you all look spiffy," Stella smiled, having dressed up as well.

(_Fucking told you_)

"Uh yeah," Nathan raised an eyebrow, "Spiffy. So how are we getting there? Our bus is gone,"

"I called for a car rental while you were showering," Charles assured him. "But I figured I should get a van—"

"God," Pickles groaned and ran his hands over his face, "Why don't you jest shoot us in the head, Charlie??"

"Is it at leascht black?"

"Yes. I got the most 'brutal' and 'metal' one they had," Charles rolled his eyes. After a moment of looking around, he noticed the absence of two very important guitarists. "Where are Skwisgaar and Toki?"

The two Europeans were up in Skwisgaar's room, trying to decide what to wear. Toki tried putting his hair up in different styles, but couldn't find a style he liked.

"I looks like a goils if I does dis," Toki sighed and took the hair tie out. Skwisgaar was trying to decide between his two pairs of boots.

"Well wears it down in a pony's tail," He suggested and slipped on the boots that were extremely similar to Knubbler's (and supposedly Murderface's).

"Dat makes me looks real weirds," Toki grabbed Pickles' drumsticks and stuck them in his hair. Not bad. "We has chopsticks? I tinks I shoulds has mine hair in chopsticks,"

"Possiblies," Skwisgaar pulled some clothes out of Charles' bag and looked around. He found two white chopsticks with little black kanji around the base.

"Oh I cans wear mine white T wit de death bat on it," Toki smiled and looked through his clothes. He pulled out a white T shirt that had a black skull with two bat wings on it.

"Das not ours. We don't has no dethbat,"

"No it belong to Avenged Sevensfold. Dey is goods band. You meets de drummer, remembers? He name was Jimmy," Toki reminded the taller guitarist.

"Oh yeah. He was tall," There was knocking on the door. Toki looked over to it curiously and stuck the sticks in his hair. Skwisgaar answered it.

"Dood, what's goin on. We've been ready for like 15 minutes," Pickles grumbled and looked in at Toki. "You chicks done dressin up yet?"

"Ja, ja, calms down Pickle. We justs wanted to look nice, so sue us,"

"Maybe I will. C'mon, they're waitin' in the van,"


	8. The Magazine

Hey. This chapter contains mature content, masturbations, nudity, and several fetishes. Don't read if you don't like it.

I warned you.

* * *

They returned nearly two hours later, very full and satisfied with the meal

They returned nearly two hours later, very full and satisfied with the meal. But of course, no one can finish dinner at Olive Garden so they made Charles carry all the leftovers. They sorted into their rooms, taking their boxes of food to store in the mini fridge. Ofdensen was glad to get the weight off his arms.

"Oh looks who all tireds like a dogs," Skwisgaar smirked and grabbed a few comforters to make a bed on the floor.

"Skwisgaar, stop it," Pickles hushed him and took off his tuxedo T-shirt. Charles looked up and took in the sight of the drummer's pinkish skin before grabbing his pajamas and walking past him and Skwisgaar to get into the bathroom.

"Dis goings to be long trips," Skwisgaar sighed and took off all his clothes.

"AH DOOD!!" Pickles covered his eyes quickly "No one wants ta see that!!"

"Cools jet, Pickle," Skwisgaar snorted and climbed under his covers, "I always sleep like dis. Is not'ing special for you,"

"Well whatever. Yo, Charlie. You gonna be much longer? Skwisgaar and I wanna get some sleep,"

Charles emerged from the bathroom in a sleeveless gray shirt and dark plaid pajama pants. They could see some chest hair poking out from the top of the ripped shirt, as they usually did when he wore his robe. Pickles was intrigued by the hair.

He had seen his fellow band mates naked before. Some all at once (thanks a lot, Murderface), and some he had a mental collage of bits and pieces of skin he'd seen exposed. But Charles? The most exposing thing he'd ever seen the manager in was his bathrobe, and only then, it was barely exposing his chest. Barely.

"Sleeping before 2 AM? My, what a change," Charles chuckled and sat down on his bed. Skwisgaar looked at the clock. It changed to exactly 11:00 PM as he looked.

"Dis place is terrible dildos. I can'ts scores wit any of de ladies here, we's caught in a time warp, and no one knows who we are!" Skwisgaar complained like a child and pulled the covers over his head.

"If yer that frustrated, jest grab a magazine and rub one out in th' bathroom," Pickles grunted, slipping under the covers and lying on his stomach. Skwisgaar seemed to consider this option.

"Does you has a magazine?"

"Yes," Both Pickles and Charles answered absently. The two musicians looked over in shock. Charles was trying to bury his face in the thick book he brought with him.

"Dood, Charlie… you got a magazine?"

"It's… no, no, I don't."

"_Dood_."

"No."

"Whatever." Pickles glanced at Skwisgaar and they both dove for Charles' suitcase. After a minute of tearing through the manager's belongings (and beatings from said manager), Skwisgaar found a nudie mag, and a very raunchy one at that.

"Holy cow…" Both the red head and the blond gasped as they leafed through. Not only were there naked girls in every position imaginable, but there were girls in bondage, bleeding girls, girls in costumes, girls in corsets; every fetish imaginable.

There were even some men too. And not just men punishing the naughty school girls. No, this very thick magazine had many pictures of just men with huge, hard, red erections.

_This_ was a magazine that catered to everyone and anyone's tastes.

"My gods…" Skwisgaar gaped at the morbidly beautiful sight of a woman moaning in a pool of her own blood.

"Sweet baby Mohammed…" Pickles stared at the slender man riding a plus size model with a strap on dildo.

"Please stop looking, this is very embarrassing," Charles made a grab for the magazine. Skwisgaar and Pickles reluctantly gave it back after looking through it a bit more.

"I tinks I may trys dat Cobra position," Skwisgaar mused and slinked back over to his floor-bed.

"Yeah that one looks fun. But dood, how bout that girl… ah what was that called… ya know, with the blood and the two guys with the uhm…" Pickles looked at Charles, who was quickly going to bed and forcing himself to lie on his stomach. His cheeks looked a little flushed, but Pickles couldn't distinguish the embarrassment from the arousal.

"Ya know… I'm gonna go to the, uh, bathroom," Pickles stood up from his bed and went to the bathroom, narrowly missing Charles bed, since Skwisgaar tripped him.

In the bathroom, Pickles steadied himself against the small sink and looked into the mirror. He was trying to work out if he was attracted to those horrifyingly arousing pictures or his manager and long-time friend. He glanced to the crack just under the door and saw the lights click off from the room. Good, they were going to bed. He just had to wait a little longer before he could… begin.

Minutes started to feel like hours soon enough, but just as the drummer felt he was going to strangle himself, he heard Skwisgaar's light and throaty snore. That was comforting. Pickles didn't know if Charles snored or not, but if Skwisgaar was asleep, Charles probably was as well. Time to get to work.

Pickles couldn't remember the last time he'd done something like this: enclosing himself in a bathroom with no lock and having to rub one out as quiet as he could so no one would notice. He hadn't done something this uncomfortable since he was a teen and still living at home. The last time he tried _that_, his mother had knocked on the door just before he came and ruined the whole thing.

Slowly and nervously, Pickles unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He had to wonder why everything seemed so much louder when you were trying to hide the fact you were doing it. Like when he and Seth played hide and seek when he was barely seven years old. He remembered running through the large house and hiding in the pantry; trying to keep his breathing light and even but having it come out loud and bullish.

Pickles moved over to in front of the toilet and put the lid up. He felt vaguely disgusted by this, as he always did. He never thought that cum and water should mix, it just seemed too vile. But, this had to be done. If he had wood when he went to bed, he would either have a very explicit wet dream or much worse morning-wood.

"Hn…" Pickles exhaled slowly went he lowered his starch white underwear to his mid thigh. His erection bobbed up proudly, red and thick and waiting for much needed attention. Pickles considered removing his shirt and decided against it. This was just a quick and dirty jerk off; he didn't need atmosphere or anything. He was in a retirement home, after all.

He carefully wrapped his fingers around his dick and brought his fist downward in a slow stroke. He sucked in a slow breath and sighed happily. Flesh on flesh always sounded good to him. His fist traveled upwards and then back down, up and down, up and down. He was content with this slow, "warm up" rhythm for a few minutes, but as his imagination kicked in, his speed increased.

At first, his fantasy was fairly simple. He and a gorgeous girl were slowly and lazily fucking on his mattress back home. She moaned and wrapped her arms around Pickles' neck. But all too soon, Pickles' mind got bored with her and opted for a new girl in a new position. He kept flashing between beautiful girls with long, flowing hair, moaning for him as he fucked them all. But his mind started to betray him and before he knew it, Pickles' head was filled with images not of dazzling bikini models but those of his straight-suited manager in very compromising positions.

Pickles paused in his rapid rhythm and stared ahead blankly. He was thinking of Charles? What for?

"Ah, get over it…" Pickles chided himself and resumed thoughts of nameless females once again. The girls and positions flickered behind his eyelids like a rapid montage of pornos he'd seen. It was all well and good until an image appeared that was very unlike the others. It was Charles on a bed with his hands in his pants, writhing and jerking off like Pickles was at the moment. Pickles bit down on his lower lip and tried to push the image out of his mind.

"_He probably does it, too,_" His mind reasoned and pulled up an even stranger image. This time, Charles was sitting calmly at his desk, having a meeting, while Pickles was under the desk, sucking him off soundlessly. Pickles squeaked at the shock of the fantasy. He never had a taste for dick before, why now?

"Fuck…" Pickles started to get into the dream and started to thrust against his moving hand. He had to bring up the other one to brace himself against the wall as he went to town, now imagining himself fucking the manager into the mattress. His mouth opened up into the empty air as his dream-self kissed Charles meaningfully, still thrusting into him almost violently.

"Charlie," He breathed. Pickles could feel the pleasure starting to build up. He could feel his muscles going rigid and spazing out as blood coursed through him and his nerves became hyper-sensitive.

"Ohfuckshit," Pickles gasped and clenched his fist around himself. He lurched forward and came hard, spurting hot speed into the porcelain bowl beneath him. He shuddered and ran his thumb over the sensitive head of his spent dick. It felt good, almost too good.

"I can't believe," Pickles gasped, now using both hands to steady him self against the wall, "I got off while thinking of… Ofdensen,"

Inside the shadowed bedroom, Charles rolled over and pressed his groin into the mattress, dreaming of nothing more than a deliciously naked drummer from Wisconsin.


	9. Poker

"Does I has to?" Toki whimpered and clutched the paper in hands. Nathan and Murderface nodded firmly and stared. Toki finally gave up and pulled off the last piece of clothing.

"I still don't understand why you left your shirt for last," Nathan muttered, still wearing pants and underwear. Toki shuddered and shrugged.

"Seemed like good ideas." He sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"You're going to have to wager something else to stay in the game, Toki," Nathan reminded him. Murderface laughed and laid back against the wall, very proud of himself for keeping all but his vest on his person. He had a knack for cards.

"Ah okay," Toki looked around, looking for something, anything that he could bet. He figured the coffee maker would be suitable, until Nathan told him that it should actually belong to Toki and if not, it should be worth more than $20. Toki huffed and thought for a minute. "Uhm… I cans gives nose bleeds to de winner of de next hands,"

Nathan and Murderface looked at each other, then their groins, then the stack of cards, and finally back to Toki.

"I'm in," Nathan shrugged and started to deal out the next hand. Murderface agreed to Toki's bet and he was in for another round, at least.

The cards were played out and surprisingly, Toki won. He took Nathan's pants and Murderface's shirt, using both to re-cloth him self.

"Scho hey, doesch that mean Toki hasch to give himshelf a blowjob?" Murderface furrowed his brow in confusion and looked to Nathan. The frontman shrugged.

"I don't think that's possible…"

"Ja, it is!" Toki nodded like an eager child. "I does its when I jerks off! Feels real goods. Is sortas how I uhm… can practice." He suddenly became shy because of the astonished looks that Nathan and Murderface were giving him.

"Stops staring…"

"You can do that??" Nathan finally managed to ask. Toki nodded meekly and covered his embarrassed face with his hands.

"No way, I don't believe," Murderface snorted, ever the pessimist.

"Ja, is true. I'se real flecks-able because I works out in mornings time,"

"Prove it." Murderface challenged the young guitarist. Toki sighed and then awkwardly balanced himself against the wall so his head was on the floor and his torso and legs were up against the wall. He let his legs fall back and indeed, he was face-to-face with his crotch… face-to-crotch.

"Huh. No shit. Does that hurt?" Nathan awkwardly crawled forward to Toki and looked down on him.

"Hurts mine backs a little bit," The Norwegian admitted. "Buts I kind of ignores it when I ams sucking."

Nathan nodded and pushed Toki over so he could relax his back. Toki's legs crashed into the bed and he sucked in a quick breath from the pain. That went away, though, and Toki could walk back to the space on the floor where they were laying cards and where, soon enough, he would sleep. In fact, Toki even yawned.

"Boy I am such one tireds guy. Can we goes to bed now?" Toki asked with another yawn and stretch. Both Nathan's and Murderface's clothes were a few sizes too large for Toki, so the normally childish guitarist looked even younger and, dare we say it, cuter.

"Yeah sure," Nathan agreed and started picking up the cards from the floor. Murderface just jumped into his bed and snuggled into the sheets as quick as he could manage. He was fine with sleeping in his day clothes and his boots. No big deal. He did it like every other day anyway.

In minutes flat, they were all in bed and drifting off to sleep, all except for Nathan, who was a bit unsettled by Toki's unique ability and the very annoying thumping sound coming from the other room with Skwisgaar, Pickles, and Ofdensen.


End file.
